The
story of God and us really begins with Abram – soon to be Abraham - a faithful
man who was asked by God to leave his home and travel to an unknown new land –
a man who thought he and his wife would never have children of their own, yet
God says that his descendants will be as numerous than the stars in the night
sky.

The
story of God and us begins with God making a promise – a covenant – a contract
– with Abraham and his many descendants – a promise made in the strange story
we heard in today’s first lesson from Genesis.

It
seems that in the ancient world contracts were made by doing what we heard today:
killing animals and cutting them in half.

Then
the two parties making the agreement would “cut the deal” by walking between these
pieces, indicating the bloody consequences if either side broke the contract.

Kind
of gruesome, but it does get the point across, right?

But,
what we heard today isn’t just any regular contract between two people about
land or money.

This
is a covenant between God and God’s people.

So,
notice what happens when God makes this covenant with Abraham – only God
“walks” between the animal parts, not Abraham, because God knows very well that
Abraham and his descendants – that we - will not be able to completely keep our
end of the agreement.

We will break
God’s Law – we will turn to other gods – we will reject the prophets sent to us
– we will, from time to time, lose faith in the God who called Abraham to a new
land, to a new way.

But,
since God made a one-sided contract with God’s people, God doesn’t ever give up
on us.

No matter what,
God always keeps God’s side of the bargain.

No matter what, as
Jesus says so beautifully in today’s gospel lesson, God wants to gather us
together, hold us close, as a hen gathers her chicks.

God will not give
up on us - will not let us go, no matter
what.

And, that’s very
good news, but…it doesn’t let us off the hook.

In today’s second
lesson, St. Paul writes to the church in Philippi that their “citizenship is in
heaven.”

That’s a
surprising word to use, right? Citizenship. It would have caught the attention
of people living in the Roman Empire two thousand years ago where citizenship
or the lack of it made a big difference in people’s lives – just as citizenship
or the lack of it makes a big difference for us living in the United States
today.

And, just like
American citizenship, our heavenly citizenship comes with many benefits and
also many responsibilities, not in heaven but right here and right now.

As “heavenly
citizens” living on earth we are expected – with God’s help – to try our best
to keep our end of the deal with God – to love God and to love our neighbor –
our Jewish neighbor, our Christian neighbor, our Muslim neighbor, our Hindu
neighbor, our atheist neighbor, our neighbor who we really don’t like or trust
– we are to strive to love them all.

Unfortunately, if
you turn on the news for just a minute or two or even just walk down Bergen
Avenue, it’s clear that we’re not really doing such a great job of keeping our
contract with God, not doing such a great job of meeting the responsibilities
of our heavenly citizenship.

It’s easy to get
discouraged.

But, God doesn’t
give up on us, so we must not give up on ourselves.

As I’ve thought
about how we can respond to the difficult times we’re living in, I keep
returning to Baptism.

We Christians gain
our heavenly citizenship through Baptism – that’s our own little citizenship
ceremony – and at each Baptism we make and renew important promises, including the
promise to proclaim the Good News of Christ in what we say and what we do.

I bet that most of
us would say that deeds are more difficult and more important than words. Just
think of the expressions we use:

“Words are cheap.”

“Actions speak louder than words.”

We criticize
people who are “all talk and no action.”

There’s truth to
all of that – and if you’ve been here more than ten minutes you know very well
that I’m very much about doing – I’m always trying to get us to do more
- to serve more people – and that’s not going to change – but I think,
especially these days, words are at least as important – and at least as
difficult – as deeds.

I began writing
today’s sermon on Friday morning after the news broke of the terrorist massacre
in New Zealand where, as you know, yet another angry and armed man opened fire on
worshipers – in this case attacking two mosques – killing 50 people and
injuring some 20 more.

This time it was
New Zealand and mosques, while not long ago it was a synagogue in Pittsburgh
and an African-American church in Charleston.

One of the things
that these horrific incidents have in common is that before the unspeakable
violence there were words – ugly words and hateful words and fearful
words - words that in a civilized society should have been unthinkable and
definitely unspeakable – but in the cesspools of the Internet and among hateful
extremists here and abroad – and, yes, among politicians who know better but
cynically stir up hate to win applause and votes – the unthinkable and the
unspeakable are thought and spoken more and more.

It can be a really
short trip from word to deed, so, no surprise, there are some twisted men who
put these ugly words into terrible action.

I know most of
would rather not – I know most of us would rather look away - but I don’t think
anything is going to change – and, actually, things are likely to get much
worse - unless we heavenly citizens start to speak up.

If we’re scared,
we have one another and we know we have a God who always keeps promises.

But, it’s time –
it’s long past time - for us to use our words – beautiful words and
loving words and courageous words.

After all, as the
theologian I live with reminded me, in the beginning was the Word.

So, we’re called
to speak up about what we experience right here in our beautiful church.

We’re not perfect
by any means and we’re not always as welcoming to people who are a little
different – who rub us the wrong way – who don’t fit into our little church
cliques – but, for the most part, this diverse group of heavenly citizens gets
along pretty well, proving that it really is possible for us to love one
another, despite our many differences.

We’re called to
speak up – and now I’m talking especially to my white brothers and sisters – we
are called to speak up when we hear people spewing racist and hateful garbage –
this could be among our own families and friends or at work or school or on
social media – but we are called to speak up and say this is wrong and this is
disgusting and this is most definitely not the way of God and I want no part of
it.

We’re called to speak
up in our communities – to speak up with other people of goodwill.

After the massacre
at the synagogue in Pittsburgh, I was asked to speak at the rally held down at
City Hall, representing the Christian community.

I really felt the
weight of this huge responsibility.

I speak in public often
enough so I don’t usually get too nervous – but I was very anxious that day – worried
that I wasn’t eloquent enough or wise enough - worried that my words wouldn’t
be right for this somber occasion – worried that I would say the wrong thing
and accidentally do more harm than good.

I agonized over
every word in my speech. In the end, I think it went OK but the truth is all I
really had to say was this:

Hating certain groups of people and
slaughtering innocents is never the way of God.

It’s really as
simple as that. But it’s not enough just to think it or to believe it. We have
to say it, too.

The story of God
and us – the story of the divine hen and her human chicks - begins long ago with
God making a covenant – a one-sided contract promising to never give up on us,
to never let go of us, no matter what.

We are so blessed
– but we are not let off the hook.

And today in our
broken and angry and heavily armed world, as heavenly citizens it is our
responsibility to use both our words and our deeds to love God and to love our
neighbor, all of our neighbors.

Sunday, March 10, 2019

One
of the advantages to living and working where I have spent much of my life is
that I usually know the fastest ways to get around.

For
the most part, I know these streets and neighborhoods pretty well.

I
remember a couple of years ago I gave my father a ride somewhere here in town
and at one point as I was cutting down side streets he turned to me and said,
“You’re like a cab driver.”

I
don’t want to brag, but it’s kind of true!

But,
it wasn’t always so.

Almost
twelve years ago when I first started working at Grace Church in Madison I
literally (and maybe figuratively too!) had no idea where I was going.

It
was a totally unfamiliar place and so, especially during the early days,
whenever I needed to drive anywhere I would look up the address on Mapquest and
print out the directions and place them on the passenger seat next to me.

Sometimes
if the route was particularly tricky I would summarize the directions on a
post-it and stick it on the steering wheel.

So
there I would be driving around the suburbs, glancing down at the seat next to
me or at my little post-it (which would sometimes fall off) – it’s amazing that
I didn’t get into accident, though I made more wrong turns than I care to
admit.

At
some point Sue suggested I get a GPS and, as usual, I was reluctant to have yet
another gadget, some new piece of technology, in my life. But, I was also tired
of getting lost so I went along with it.

Having
this little screen and its disembodied voice in the car with me took some
getting used to and especially in those early days the technology was
imperfect, sometimes taking me on roundabout routes or even in circles and also
sometimes the GPS would be a second or two late, causing me to miss a turn –
and I’d hear the robotic voice say with what sounded like just a hint of
annoyance,
RECALCULATING.

But,
over time the technology has improved so much and now I don’t even use a GPS
device. I just open an app on my phone, and away we go – and now it even tells
me which lane to be in – and, what’s my favorite feature, it even suggests
shortcuts.

SAVE
FOUR MINUTES BY TAKING THE NEXT EXIT.

Yes!
Save four minutes! That feels like hitting the jackpot – what a joy to avoid some
traffic and arrive at my destination a whole four minutes early!

Seriously,
shortcuts really are great when we are driving from point A to point B.

But…when
it comes to our spiritual life – when it comes to the Way of Jesus – shortcuts
are in fact very dangerous temptations.

As
we do every year on the First Sunday in Lent, today we heard the story of
Jesus’ forty days in the wilderness – forty days of temptation by the devil.

We’re
told three of the temptations that the devil offered to Jesus:

“If
you are the Son of God, command this stone to become bread.”

“Worship
me and I will give you all the glory and the authority in the world.”

“If
you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from the pinnacle of the Temple and
let the angels save you, revealing to everyone your true identity.”

You
know, it’s kind of surprising, but when you stop and really look at these
temptations you notice that there’s nothing bad about the ultimate outcomes.

Bread
is good, especially for someone starving in the wilderness.

The
world really would be a much better place if Jesus were given all glory and
authority.

And,
wouldn’t it really be something to see Jesus caught by angels, proving that he
is the beloved Son of God?

There’s
nothing bad about any of these temptations except that they are shortcuts – and
when it comes to our spiritual life – when it comes to the Way of Christ –
shortcuts don’t ever really work – shortcuts are dangerous - they wouldn’t get
Jesus to his ultimate destination - and they won’t get us to where God wants us
to be, either.

The
shortcut would be Jesus magically turning stones into bread, but the way of
life is all of us giving away our bread and fish – sharing what we have – and
Jesus taking those gifts, blessing those gifts, and making more than enough for
everybody – making more than we could have ever imagined.

The
shortcut would be doing the wrong thing in order to achieve worldly power but
the way of life is Jesus showing that true kingship, true leadership, isn’t selling
your soul, isn’t lording it over other people, but is instead giving away your
life in loving service.

The
shortcut would be some dramatic display of divine power – like jumping off the
temple and being saved by angels, but the way of life is Jesus nailed to a
tree, showing us more clearly than we could have ever imagined how much God
loves us – showing us most clearly that even when we do the worst thing
imaginable – even when we kill the Blameless One - God still doesn’t give up on
us and, in the end, love defeats even death itself.

If
Jesus had taken these shortcuts we would have never made it back to the garden,
never made it to the empty tomb, never made it to where the Risen Christ
reveals himself to Mary Magdalene, and to us.

Unfortunately,
the temptation to take shortcuts is still very real for us Christians today.

And
that’s especially true during this holy season of Lent.

There’s
the always popular shortcut of living pretty much like so many people out in
the world – looking out for our selves and our own and turning away from those
who are suffering.

There’s the
shortcut of loving and being kind to the people we love and like, but being
mean and unwelcoming to those who are different or who we don’t like or who we
don’t know.

There’s the
shortcut of showing up here for communion and community just from time to time
or just when we feel like it or just when it’s convenient.

There’s the
shortcut of giving away a little bit but never really giving so much of
ourselves and our resources that it hurts – that it causes us to sacrifice
something we really like or want.

Taking care of our
selves and our families - and saving our time and our resources - are all good
things, right?

And, the truth is nobody
would blame us for taking these shortcuts – look at all the time and energy and
money and even love we would save!

But, for us these
shortcuts are dangerous temptations because they won’t get us to our ultimate
destination – won’t get us to where God wants us to be.

So, this Lent, I
challenge myself and I invite you to take the long way.

Let’s walk
together the Way of the Cross – let’s walk together the Way of Life – let’s
pray and let’s sacrifice and let’s give.

It wasn’t easy for
Jesus and it won’t be easy for us, but together we’ll reach our beautiful
destination – an Easter that’s not just pretty flowers and tasty chocolate and
fancy hats – but an Easter that is truly new life.

Sunday, March 03, 2019

Some
of you know that our new bishop, The Rt. Rev. Carlye Hughes, has been spending
a lot of time getting to know the people of her new diocese and allowing us to
get acquainted with her and her vision for our church.

There
have been several popular “Breaking Bread with the Bishop” events with more to
come, and she has also been meeting individually with each member of the
clergy.

She
came down to Jersey City a few months ago, giving me a strong incentive to finally
clean my office – though to look at it now you’d never know!

It
was a relaxed conversation that lasted for more than an hour.

She
asked me about my background and how things were going here.

She
asked what role I saw myself playing in the diocese.

And
then she asked about my self-care, which, unfortunately, is not always my
strong suit.

But,
I was able to tell her about my long early morning daily walks in the good
weather – and I was able to tell her about the retreat I made last May,
fulfilling a longtime dream of visiting the Abbey of Gethsemani in Kentucky.

I
was feeling pretty self-satisfied about these examples of superb self-care, but
then she said something like, “OK, that was last year. How about this year?
Have you scheduled your next retreat?”

I
stammered a little bit…um…well…uh…no – because to be honest I had thought about
last year’s retreat as checking off an important box in my life, not
necessarily as something that should be an annual event.

Anyway,
after our meeting I did book a retreat for this year, this time not as far away
as Kentucky, but at another monastery in Upstate New York – and I’m already
looking forward to it very much.

If
you know anything about monks and monasteries you know that the twin pillars of
their lives are what is called in Latin, “Ora et Labora.”

Prayer
and work.

In
the case of the monks I visited in Kentucky, they spend their days and their
nights gathering frequently in their chapel for prayer – eight different
services every weekday – the first at 3:15 in the morning and the last at 7:30
at night.

So, monks get to
bed early.

And the monks
spend the rest of their time working to keep up the monastery and especially
producing the products they sell to pay the bills, which in the case of the
monastery in Kentucky includes making chocolate fudge.

So,
on top of the natural beauty and holiness of that place, there’s also the smell
of chocolate wafting through the air.

Not
bad at all!

Ora
et Labora.

Prayer
and work.

We
tend to think of prayer and work as two different things, but the idea for the
monks – and for us - is that over time prayer and work get woven together so
that eventually you can no longer tell where one begins and the other ends.

Prayer
and work and work and prayer.

Among
other things, Jesus was very much a man of prayer.

The
Gospels remember him praying while surrounded by his disciples and other people
and they also record him going off by himself for a while, climbing up a
mountain, to spend some time in prayer.

But,
as the author of our Lenten book says, the mountains of Israel aren’t all that
tall – Jesus doesn’t go very far – and, maybe to his disappointment, he’s
usually found pretty easily by the people who go looking for him.

So,
in today’s gospel lesson, Jesus and his closest disciples – Peter, James, and
John, went up on the mountain to pray – and there they have a most powerful
spiritual experience – a glimpse of Easter – a taste of Resurrection - as the
face of Jesus is transformed and his clothes are dazzling white.

And
then, as if that weren’t enough, Moses and Elijah appear – two figures from Israel’s
past - figures who were believed to have been taken up into heaven.

No
surprise, Peter doesn’t want this moment to end and so he suggests that they
build dwellings for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah – but before Jesus can respond to
that the cloud appears and they hear the voice from heaven:

“This
is my Son, my Chosen; Listen to him!”

After
all of this, after what we call the Transfiguration, there are no words – and
notice there’s no further discussion about Peter’s suggestion of staying on the
mountain.

No,
instead, Jesus and his friends come back down off of the mountain, back to the
large crowd gathered and waiting - and Jesus gets right back to work.

Prayer
and work and work and prayer.

There’s
yet another desperate parent – a father – who begs Jesus to heal his son, his
only child.

Jesus’
disciples had tried to heal the boy but had failed and Jesus seems irritated by
this – maybe he wishes he were still up on the mountain with Moses and Elijah –
or maybe he knows that the disciples aren’t working and praying as hard as they
should - but he heals the boy and the crowd is astounded at “the greatness of
God.”

Jesus
is a man of prayer, but more than that, he is the supreme example of someone
for whom prayer and work are woven together, woven so closely that we can’t
tell where one begins and the other ends.

Ora
et labora.

Prayer
and work and work and prayer.

And,
today it’s not just monks who are called to this way of life – we are all
called to prayer and work and work and prayer.

Easier
said than done, right?

But,
as we begin Lent on Wednesday, more important than giving up chocolate or
skipping meat on Fridays, the most important thing we can do – the best
self-care we can do - is to set aside even just a little bit of time for
prayer.

(And,
yes, I’m preaching to myself at least as much as I’m preaching to you!)

We
don’t need the perfect time and place – we don’t need a mountain or even a hill
and we certainly don’t need a monastery, as nice as those places are.

Instead, as Jesus
says, we can just close the door to our room and spend a few minutes with God –
as the author of our Lenten book says, keeping it simple, keeping it short,
keeping it frequent, and keeping it real.

And, the more we
do that, we’ll find that our prayer and our work will become woven together –
prayer and our job – prayer and going to school – prayer and going to the
supermarket – prayer and spending time with family and friends – prayer and the
ministries we do here together.

Our prayer and our
work will be woven together – and we will all be astounded at the greatness of
God.

I
must be starting to get old, because when I look back on my childhood it seems
so different from what kids experience today – it almost feels like a whole
different world.

As
I’ve mentioned to you before, I grew up down in Country Village where, in the
1970s, there were lots of young families, lots of kids around my age.

There
were no personal computers yet and video games were just beginning, so, in the
good weather all of us, even a kind of bookish kid like me, would spend a lot
of time outside, playing in the middle of the street, interrupted only by the
occasional cry of “Car! Car!” that
shooed us to the sidewalk for a minute.

We
played and we rode our bikes, all under the eyes of many of our mothers who
watched us from the kitchen window, often while talking on the phone.

Although
a fight would break out every now and then and there were some cranky older
neighbors who complained about the noise or objected to us crossing onto their
property, for the most part it was a pretty happy and peaceful way to grow up.

But,
of course, we couldn’t be outside all the time, so the other main activity was
watching TV – watching the handful of channels that were available back then –
during the day watching repeats of old shows from the 50s, 60s, and 70s.

So,
there was a lot of I Love Lucy, The Munsters, The Addams Family, Lost inSpace, The Brady Bunch, and on, and on.

But
there weren’t just the shows – there were also the commercials.

Nowadays,
some of us have devices or streaming services that allow us to fast-forward
through commercials or skip them entirely, but back then there was no escape
and through repetition they became at least as memorable as the shows
themselves – which was, of course, the whole point.

So,
back then I probably had no idea what indigestion was, but I knew that the
“plop, plop, fizz, fizz” of Alka-Seltzer would offer “oh what a relief.”

I
objected to some of the midweek suppers my mother put on the table because I
knew full well, just like everybody else, that “Wednesday is Prince Spaghetti
Day!”

And,
I also knew that not all hot dogs were created equal – and I knew this important
fact thanks to a memorable commercial for Hebrew National.

It
was a simple set-up: we see Uncle Sam holding a hot dog in his hand and then an
announcer points out that the government allows hot dog makers to use frozen
beef and fillers and byproducts and other unappetizing things, but Hebrew
National doesn’t do any of that because…

“We
answer to higher authority.”

The
camera pans upward, above Uncle Sam to the clouds, and left unsaid is that this
“higher authority” is God.

The
point was that, unlike Oscar Meyer and the rest, Hebrew National follows the
Jewish dietary laws - it keeps kosher.

And,
although the commercial is a little silly (though effective – I remember it
clear as day forty years later), it does point to a truth.

Since
they first came to understand that they had a special relationship with God,
that they had a covenant with God, the Jewish people have understood themselves
as being under a Higher Authority, held to a different standard than the other
people around them.

Like
all of us, they sometimes fall short, but for thousands of years they’ve
understood they are to treat other people as they themselves would want to be
treated – that they were to welcome the stranger into their land – that they
were to treat animals humanely – that the command for Sabbath rest was not just
for Jewish men and women but also for foreigners, for slaves, and even for the
beasts of burden.

Jesus
was born into this culture and grew up with this understanding – that he and
his people answered to a “Higher Authority” – and, through him, we his
followers are also now answerable to God.

But,
Jesus builds on this Jewish understanding, asking – requiring – even more than
any of the great prophets and teachers who came before him.

We
are not just to respect and be decent to our enemies – we are to love
them.

We
are not just to be peaceful – we are to offer our other cheek to be struck.

We
are not just to be generous – we are to give to everyone who asks of us.

We
are not to judge – never to condemn.

We
are to forgive, no matter what.

This
is some of Jesus’ most difficult teaching – and it raises challenges and even some
dangers, doesn’t it?

I
can imagine the crowd around Jesus scratching their heads wondering how in the
world anyone could do this.

Actually,
I don’t have to imagine it because, as I pondered these words, I was scratching
my own head, wondering how anybody could do this, wondering what in the world
to say about these most challenging commands.

And,
as I’ve thought about it, I think maybe for that first crowd and for us today,
these hard teachings most of all remind us just how fallen the world is – how
broken we are – how far we are from the way things were meant to be – how the
Kingdom of God has not yet fully arrived.

The
truth is we can’t yet fully live into these commands because, as we seem to be
reminded every single day, in our fallen world there are some people who abuse
others – there are some people who must be stopped from hurting other people –
there are people who are treated like doormats or far worse, and that is surely
not what God wants.

The
truth is we can’t yet fully live into these commands because in our broken
humanity there are a few who have so much and many who have so little and if we
give to every outstretched hand we will find ourselves destitute and with our
own hands outstretched – and that is surely not what God wants.

The
Kingdom of God has not yet fully arrived.

But,
that does not let us off the hook.

We
are not allowed to simply shrug and say, “Oh well, this is the way it has to be,
so let’s ignore or forget about what Jesus has to say.”

A
certain hot dog maker didn’t give into the temptation of saying “Well, since
everybody else is using coloring and additives, I guess that’s the way it has
to be, so let’s give up our standards and offer a cheaper product like
everybody else.”

In the same way, we
shouldn’t give into the temptation of saying that our broken world and fallen
humanity will always be broken and fallen and that’s just how it’s going to be.

No.

We
are children of God and we answer to a Higher Authority.

And,
you know, people today are way more interested in what’s in their food than we
were back in the 70s.

Change
is possible.

Now,
I’m not saying that’s because of Hebrew National franks, but I do know that the
more we are loving and generous and merciful – the more we are like God – then,
with God’s help, the world becomes more like what it was always meant to be.

The
more we are loving and generous and merciful then there will be fewer enemies
and more friends – there will be fewer people who have to beg with outstretched
hands – there will be less judgment and more forgiveness – and there might even
be more kids able to play outside in their own neighborhoods, without a care in
the world.

We
still have a long way to go, and we’re going to fall short a lot of the time, but
if we follow the way of Jesus, if we answer to the Higher Authority, then the
Kingdom of God draws ever closer.